Artistic Licence (35 page)

The main picture hanging, which Rory insisted on attending, took two days and included an over-indulgent evening at Thea’s house, where Rory stayed.

It didn’t take so long because he and Thea argued about what should go where – in fact, their ideas were surprisingly harmonious – but because there was such a lot of work to be fitted in and it was difficult to decide exactly where on the wall to hang each one. It was only when they started the process that they discovered that half the walls weren’t true and had little
unsuspected bulges.

‘Rather like when you put on a clingy dress,’ said Petal, who was helping. ‘You find bumps all over the place.’

Thea and Rory regarded Petal, a perfect size ten. ‘But in your case,’ said Rory, ‘the bumps are in all the right places.’

Arranging a lighting system took another two days and more money than Thea could bear to contemplate. But in the end they had one which was flexible, easy to change – provided you could cope with climbing ladders – and made the work look sensational.

Thea said as much to Rory who was offended. ‘I mean, your work is sensational if you see it in a garage with the door shut. But a lot of the artists I have may need a little assistance with the lighting. It’s very important. It’s the same as good framing. It makes all the difference.’

Rory laughed. ‘Sure, I was only teasing you. I know it’s important.’

Ben, who kept away from the gallery, occupied her thoughts only when he had a genuine reason to be there, like when she was wondering if the painted hardboard floor, laid directly over the carpet, was all right. Or if she should have the prices discreetly stuck up next to the paintings, or on a sheet, to be handed to each person. Was Little Chap really thriving and catching up with his siblings, or was it just wishful thinking on her part? In fact, she reckoned wryly, she only thought about him twenty or thirty times a day. That’s practically over him, she told herself.

The days flashed past and gradually the gallery began
to look like a gallery. The ladders and dust sheets were moved out; the fine dust which had covered everything when the floors were sanded was no longer discovered in unlikely places. Thea even got to the stage of redecorating the little room beyond the kitchen, in case they had to expand into it. Sadly, painting over the walls did nothing to erase the poignant memories she had about the room.

Molly began to do some serious PR, telephoning everyone she could think of to tell them about Rory and the exhibition. But the response was disappointing. The moment people heard that the show was out of London they lost interest. Molly started to despair. ‘If we’re not careful it’ll end up just being a social event for our friends.’

‘Well, that’s all right, isn’t it? Isn’t it nicer to entertain your friends than a lot of London media types who’ll just turn their noses up at the whole thing?’ Thea was beginning to think that obscurity was better than success. If she was going to fail, she wanted to do it quietly, with no one looking.

‘You don’t think it’s anything to do with Veronica, do you?’ demanded Molly.

‘That’s paranoid. Why should she bother to sabotage us?’

Molly regarded Thea but, for once, didn’t say anything.

Then, four days before the private view, when Thea was about to resort to ringing round her friends to make sure they at least came, things changed.

The first time the phone rang and it was a London paper, Thea was thrilled. She called Molly
immediately and told her about it. Molly, who’d planned a trip to the beauty therapist in preparation for the big day, cancelled her appointment. ‘Just so that I can be there if it happens again.’

‘Showing your usual confidence in my PR skills I see?’ said Thea light-heartedly.

‘Of course not, Thea – oh honestly! I’ll be over in an hour.’

Thea had dealt with three more calls when she heard the gallery door open while she was scribbling down some details. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. The phone hasn’t stopped all morning and I’m desperate to go to the loo. What kept you?’ She looked up and saw not Molly, but Ben, who stood in the doorway, hesitating. ‘Oh. You’re not Molly.’

‘No. Sorry.’

Thea’s mouth was suddenly dry and she stopped feeling like a gallery owner creating interest in London, and felt gauche and foolish, uncertain what to say. ‘Well, come in, then,’ she managed.

He came into the space and looked around. ‘I wasn’t sure how welcome I’d be.’

Thea smiled a little stiffly. ‘Perfectly welcome.’

He looked very tired and formal, and more attractive than Thea had thought it possible for any man to look. She wanted to fling herself at him and hold on to him so tightly that he would never escape. Against her will, her mind went back to the last time he had touched her, gripping her shoulder, manhandling her into his house. Instead of anger or indignation, she just wanted to feel his touch again, even an angry touch.

1 came to make a confession.’

Oh, not now
, thought Thea.
Don’t tell me anything dreadful now.
‘Is it really necessary? I’m sure you’d never do anything really terrible.’

‘Are you? Last time we met you seemed to doubt that.’

It was odd. A little while ago she’d have given much to have the opportunity to tell Ben that she knew he hadn’t betrayed her. Now that it was presented to her she felt reluctant to do so. Was it spite? Did she want him to suffer a little of what she’d suffered? ‘Well, I’m sure you can’t blame me for doubting it. It was a little hard to accept that you really didn’t know Veronica would snap up Rory the moment you found out where he was.’

‘I do see that and I don’t blame you for doubting me.’

‘So what have you got to confess now?’

‘I decided I had to do some damage limitation.’

Thea frowned. ‘Oh?’

‘Veronica was very bitter about Rory changing his mind.’

‘Was she?’

‘So that she didn’t manage to convince everyone that your show wasn’t worth crossing the street for, let alone visiting the wilds of Gloucestershire, I decided to take action.’

‘What action? Oh, excuse me, there’s the phone again.’

It rang again, twice, before she had a chance to carry on her conversation with Ben, by which time Molly had arrived. ‘What is going on?’ she asked. ‘And what are you doing here, Ben?’

‘I came to warn you both. I asked a friend of mine to
do a press release and ring up a few of her contacts. She knows absolutely everybody.’

‘Oh.’ Thea felt ambivalent about this piece of information. She should be thrilled to have so much publicity and interest in her gallery. But she also felt she should have been consulted. ‘Shouldn’t I have written the press release?’

‘I’m sorry. I would have consulted you, but writing press releases is a fairly skilled art. You have to capture the attention of a lot of very bored journos who are unlikely to have any interest in art unless there’s a story attached.’ He paused. ‘And I didn’t want you to tell me
not
to do it, because I knew it was important that I did.’

‘Oh.’

Molly, aware of uncomfortable currents flowing between Thea and Ben said, ‘Well I’m sure I could have managed something.’

‘Molly, I know you’re really well connected but my friend truly has an enormous number of contacts.’ Ben sounded apologetic.

‘Oh, well, could you at least show us a copy of the press release?’ asked Thea. ‘So we have some idea what the story is?’

‘Sure.’ He put his briefcase on the desk and took out a sheaf of papers. He handed one each to Molly and Thea. It read:

A photograph of Rory staring out over Clew Bay, which she remembered taking herself, shared the page. Thea had to admit that he looked as beautiful and romantic as possible.

‘Well,’ she said, feeling very ambivalent, handing back the page. ‘It’s obviously done the trick. The phone hasn’t stopped – oops, there it goes again.’ After she had dealt with the call, she turned back to Ben. ‘But I’m not at all sure it’s ethical. I’ve never been Rory’s girlfriend and it’s his work they should be talking about, not what he looks like and whether or not he happens to be “a ride".’

‘What does that mean, anyway?’ demanded Molly.

‘I think it’s what Petal would describe as “well-fit", in Irish,’ said Thea. ‘And I haven’t time to keep answering the telephone to journalists who are more keen to know whether or not Rory and I were an item than about his work.’

‘Well, are you? An item, that is?’ asked Ben.

‘What has that got to do with the price of fish?’ demanded Thea, furious with him for asking, especially in front of Molly, so they couldn’t have a proper row.

‘Possibly nothing. It’s just helpful to know the facts. From a PR point of view.’

‘Oh, really? Going on what I’ve just read, you just make it up. Facts have nothing to do with it.’

‘Oh, stop bickering, you two,’ Molly snapped. ‘How are we going to cope with the phone when we’ve got so much to do? I’ve got a hair appointment. There are some extra postcards to collect and goodness knows what else.’

‘And I’ve one or two things to do myself,’ Thea added, thinking of her ‘to do’ list, which got longer and longer as every hour passed.

Ben’s eyebrows flicked upwards. ‘Get Petal back to do it for you. Tell her exactly what to say about your and Rory’s romantic status, and when the private view is.’

‘Molly’s insisting on canapés, so we have to know how many people are likely to come.’

‘Many more than you’ve invited, that’s for sure. Have you made a list of which papers you’ve spoken to?’

‘Yes,’ said Thea, crossing her fingers behind her back, hoping that, if she was quick, she would remember and could make one.

‘I’d better get on to the caterer,’ said Molly. ‘I hope she can manage the extra numbers.’

‘But first, can you ring Petal and ask if her father can bring her over? I can’t keep racing back up the stairs every time the phone rings and I’ve got things to see to down there,’ Thea pleaded.

‘You need a portable phone that you can carry around with you.’

‘Yes, I know. But right now I need Petal. Please,
Molly –’ The phone rang again.

‘I’ll use my mobile,’ said Molly, as Thea picked it up.

‘I’ll have a look round,’ said Ben. ‘If you don’t mind.’

Thea was on the phone, so she couldn’t tell him that actually, she minded very much. She wanted to show him round herself.

Chapter Twenty-One

The next time the phone rang Thea made Molly answer it and went down to see what Ben was up to. She felt terribly cheated that she hadn’t been there to show it to him, to see his face when he saw the paintings properly hung for the first time.

He was downstairs in the large gallery, with the painted floor laid over the glue-covered boards. He turned when he heard her come in. ‘It’s fabulous. They look wonderful. You’ve done a brilliant job.’

‘I only got the pictures up on the walls. It’s Rory who’s brilliant.’

He shook his head. ‘The setting is important and it’s worked out just right.’

Thea bit her lip. She’d so yearned for his praise, but now that she’d had it she didn’t know what to say.

‘Thank you for writing to Toby,’ Ben said. ‘He was thrilled to get the letter.’

‘Oh, good. You know he wrote to me? I felt I had to answer.’ What she really wanted to know was whether Ben had read her letter to Toby.

‘It was kind of you to think of a small boy when you’ve got so much else on your plate.’

Thea smiled. ‘It wasn’t a small boy, it was Toby! That’s quite different. He and I are friends.’

‘But you and I can’t be?’

Oh. So he had read the letter. ‘Well, what do you think?’

He sighed. ‘No. I’ve got plenty of friends and they’re none of them like you.’

‘But I hope it won’t mean Toby and I can’t see each other. I’d be really sorry not to. I love him.’ The words came out on a sigh. It was true, she did love Toby, but she also loved the man she was talking to. It was like blowing a kiss in the wrong direction.

Ben nodded.

‘Thea!’ Molly called downstairs. ‘Petal’s father’s driving her over now. But you’ll have to come and mind the phone. I’ve got to see the caterers and pick up the postcards. Oh, and Rory rang to say he’s coming.’

Ben gave a wry smile. ‘Well, I’ll go now. I’ve got a house to have another look at.’

‘In Bristol?’

‘No. Near here, actually. So you and Toby can carry on your relationship.’